Crazytown

SCREAMING IMELDA

Traveling the world for the greatest of Imelda Staunton does not disappointment.
By Owen Panettieri (playwright, lyricist)

I am a proud Imelda Staunton groupie. She is the best. If you've never seen her on stage, you must. At any opportunity and at any cost. Imelda Staunton is everything.  Imelda first came to my attention as an actress of incredible talent in the 2004 feature film Vera Drake for which she was nominated for and Oscar as Best Actress (she lost to Hlilary Swank in Million Dollar Baby!). If you are not familiar film, you are forgiven. It's one of those British films that you know is REALLY good because it made approximately ZERO dollars in the US and still support was so strong in the industry to nominate her for an Oscar.  Most people know her from her star turn as Dolores Umbridge in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix in 2007 and Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Part 1 in 2010. She brings to life one of the series' greatest villains. But her acting career in film TV and theater goes back decades. Exploring her theater work and accolades you get a better sense of her incredible range as a performer.

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You may be surprised to learn that Imelda is an accomplished musical theater performance who has appeared in many shows on the West End, and who has won three of her four Olivier Awards in the Best Actress category - as The Baker's Wife in Into The Woods, Mrs. Lovett in Sweeney Todd and Mama Rose in Gypsy. She's earned 11 Olivier nominations throughout her career. I saw her performance in 2015 in Gypsy and it melted my brain. What makes her such an incredible performer is her understanding of dynamics. She can go big. She can go small. But what sets her apart from other actors is her ability to navigate everything in between. She can give you fortissimo, but she can also give you mezzo forte. She paints with all the colors. She breathes so much life and fresh perspective into these iconic characters. Even if you've been a fan of a show for years, Imelda Staunton will show you things about them that you never realized you were missing.

PROTEST IS THE NEW BRUNCH

It's only February.
By Alisha Giampola (writer/performer)

When satire has become reality, when those leading our government are making Orwellian propaganda seem tame by comparison, when the creators of South Park don't even know how to make fun of the current administration, because truth has become too much stranger than even the fictions of their twisted minds... what is the right approach? What tone do artists take during times like this to resist fascism and authoritarian moves like literally attempting to destroy the amendment that maintains our government's fine line of separation between church and state? It isn't funny anymore, and making fun of it feels daunting. Why bother satirizing a man who can tweet stuff like this with a dead-straight face: "I don't know Putin, have no deals in Russia, and the haters are going crazy..." I mean.... okayyyyy, dude. I literally don't know what to say about that. When you spend your entire Black History Month speech talking about how everyone likes you and you got more votes than anyone in the whole world ever and everyone else is losers, and then say things like: "Frederick Douglass is an example of somebody who's done an amazing job and is being recognized more and more, I notice," as if Frederick Douglass is a real up-and-comer in middle management of a small but promising office supplies company... I just literally don't know what to say. 

Which is why I'm realizing more and more that the only way to respond to this preposterousness is with total and complete sincerity. (Although, there is absolutely a time and place for wit, and this is making me laugh today in the face of the utterly ridiculous confirmation of Betsey DeVos as Secretary of Education.) So. What do I mean by sincerity? I don't mean a total lack of irony. I don't mean "eschewing the lifesaving gift of comedy altogether". I just mean like, show up. I, a total and utterly insincere jerk, have been going to protests. Singing "This Land Is Our Land" alongside people holding homemade signs. Writing postcards to my congresspeople. Calling my senators and representatives EVERY SINGLE DAY (and also calling the ones in Florida, where I grew up, because I still have a Florida area code, and enjoy calling Marco Rubio and reminding him that he got bought by Betsy DeVos). 

Some people have gotten really fired up about caring about the future of our democracy. A lot of awesome people I know have always cared about the political climate of our country, and are not foul-weather activists like myself, who suddenly realized a few months ago that being mildly displeased about things but only actually bothering about them when they affect you is a really shitty way to be a human. But some of us needed things to become really horrible to become involved. As a kid I remember reading about Anne Frank and Sojourner Truth and the French Revolution and thinking: "Oh, so like if I ever saw things get bad politically, it would be pretty clear who the good guys and bad guys are. Everyone I know and care about would also be like 'Yeah, clearly those are the bad guys and here's our secret hiding place and here's our box of stolen ration cards.'" But that's not how things are. Yeah, it's pretty easy to see who the bad guys are, but it's really unclear how to deal with them and how bad they actually have to let things get before it's justified to begin calling them bad guys. And it is certainly surprising how many people don't clearly see the same distinctions between good guys and bad guys. 

I guess what I'm saying is, life is way more complicated than I expected when I was eleven, but is also surprisingly way more simple. I'm mortified that our country isn't accepting refugees from the country my own family escaped from during the last century, and I'm even more mortified that I feel so utterly helpless about how little I can ultimately do. Some of my friends are deciding to refocus their careers and run for office and help become one of the good guys in our government. Others are leading the resistance and gently pushing back on every human rights-compromising decision coming out of the White House today. Educators like myself have their work cut out for them for these next few years. Raising more tolerant, kind, inquisitive, questioning, inclusive humans is clearly in order. Humans who don't bully, who understand that the success of a group can be really good for the success of each individual in the group. Humans who are confident enough to accept that not everyone has to think exactly the same way, but we do all have to find a way to work together or our planet is doomed. Humans who recognize that just because someone believes in a different religion than you, that doesn't mean they're dangerous. Humans who are students of history and encourage others to be lifelong students as well. 

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair… we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way…”
- Charles Dickens "A Tale of Two Cities" (how did he KNOW, AMIRITE?!) -

If you live in (or are planning a visit to) NYC, and you'd like to partake in some art that embodies the sentiment of "resist, with sincerity", may I recommend a few things that I'm currently interested in?

-The Museum of Modern Art's curated displays of art from the countries affected by the administrations' unconstitutional travel ban.
- An upcoming production (starring a former director of mine, Kevin Del Aguila! Yay, Kevin!) of Brecht's The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui, a parable play about a dictator to be performed on February 20th, with ticket sales benefiting the Southern Poverty Law Center. 
- Sweat, a widely acclaimed Public Theatre drama about the struggle of the working class transfers to Broadway in March.

A couple other things I'd love to recommend this week are an Oscar-nominated documentary that I loved (and at our house where Daniel tries and frequently succeeds at seeing every nominated film every awards season, I can tell you that I see a lot of Oscar-nominated documentaries): Life, Animated- a beautiful story about a young man with autism who communicates through the films he loves. Also, this week's This American Life was heartbreaking and timely.

A picture I took during this week's protest in Washington Square Park. #thisiswhatdemocracysoundslike
I am proud to live in a city that stands strong with refugees from the devastation in Syria (and every other place in need of hope and freedom). 

ALISHA GIAMPOLA is an NYC based actor/teacher/writer who has no idea why La La Land has been nominated for so many Oscars.
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RISE UP

All the ladies who truly feel me
Throw your hands up at me
By Alisha Giampola (writer/performer)

I visited the Whitney Museum this past weekend with a dear friend on her birthday. She's an artist herself, and as a writer, I deeply respect anyone who can create a picture to replace my thousand words. We stopped at one point in front of the same piece, by Annette Lemieux, titled Left Right Left Right. 

Reading a bit about the artist and the piece, which was created in 1995, I learned that the piece used to be exhibited upright, with the fists (some of which are of famous activists and leaders such as Martin Luther King, Jr.) shown right side up. Although, even upright, "several of the images are flipped, so that the same fist appears raised in opposing directions, and the use of photographs from various decades injects difference into what appears on first glance to be a unified front." Originally the work was meant to indicate (continuing in the words of the curated description): "that protests—and the political and ideological issues that occasion them—are more complex, encompassing contradictions and opposing views." However, in the wake of the recent election, the artist requested that her work be flipped upside down: “Lemieux’s gesture suggests a commitment to individual agency, the continuing power of protest, and a feeling, in her words, that the ‘world has turned upside down’,” the museum explained in a statement. 

I think it's fascinating, and not unexpected, that the artist has found new and refreshed meaning in her own art. Originally questioning the unity of any protest, the artist now sees her own work as a statement about the continuing power of such protest, including her own ability to participate through her chosen artistic voice. 

Meryl Streep stated last week in her powerful speech as she received a lifetime achievement award at the Golden Globes that an actor's "only job is to enter the lives of people who are different from us, and let you feel what that feels like." I daresay that is the only job of any artist. Writer, composer, actor, painter, sculptor. Artists everywhere have always been the empathizers of the world. We remind others to think outside of themselves even for just a minute. To remember how a mere breath, a tiny edit on a strand of DNA, a hair's breadth, separates them from a life immeasurably different from their own. 

The Women's March on Washington is this weekend. There are marches planned all over the nation, and in several countries, but I am going to Washington D.C. with my husband and some friends. I know I'm lucky to be able to go directly to our nation's capital to peacefully petition and protest the administration there. If you are interested in attending, or standing alongside us in an affiliated march in your city or town, you can read about the Mission and Unity Principles of those participating here and here. If you, like me, are afraid of what the next few years of leadership in this country could upend, and especially if you (like me) are new to activism (I used to think that my only responsibility as a citizen was showing up to vote once every few years) - I urge you to join us! I am heartened to know how many of my creative, artistic, inclusive community will be supporting the march on Saturday, and if you're planning to go to D.C. may I suggest availing yourself of one of these helpful lists of what to bring/how to stay safe? 

Other protests and rallies in light of recent political events are scheduled around the inauguration weekend, including one for those who work in the theatre community, called The Ghostlight Project, which is scheduling a simultaneous, peaceful event for January 19th at theatres all across the country. 

Visit their site to see more stories and join their social justice campaign. 

It's easy to be inactive when we see injustices in our world. It's a little harder right now, when so much injustice is happening every day, but it's still more comfortable to sit back, especially if you occupy a position of privilege, which I am very aware that I do. But I will say that choosing to be a part of this, to not allow my silence to validate the oppression I see, feels great. It feels active. It feels supportive of those who have the potential of being in a much less safe place four years from now than I will be. 

If you want to support some awesome artists who are supporting the March, you can get some swag over at The Outrage or support a cause that supports women's rights, like protesting the defunding of Planned Parenthood or aiding the Malala Fund by adding this adorable "Smash The Patriarchy" pin to your protest-ensemble. 

It feels like there's a lot to take in right now: threats to the environment, our foreign alliances, the freedom of the press, healthcare and social safety nets for those in need, women's reproductive rights, the security of minorities, refugees, and immigrants...but there is a clear way to speak truth to power next weekend. And by power, I don't just mean You Know Who. This rally for him will be mostly Tweet-fodder (I can see it now: "Women rallying in Washington today: didn't see any tens, all clearly bleeding out of their wherevers. SAD"). But the Executive is not the only branch of our government, and Rome didn't transition from Republic to an Empire in only a day. For the first time in my adult life, I recognize an opportunity to remind those in positions of leadership who are supposed to be in Washington to represent my interests and the interests of all Americans that I am watching them. I am paying attention. I am remaining vigilant. 

See you there, ladies.

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:

The Women's March on Washington is the day after the inauguration, Saturday, January 21st, beginning at 10am at the intersection of Independence Avenue and 3rd Street near the US Capitol. This march is free and open for all (and not just women of course- people of all genders, colors, and creeds who are allies of women and the marginalized are encouraged to participate), but you are urged to register at the march's website if you are able, so a semi-accurate headcount can be used to ensure proper security and resources (more than 200,000 people are already expected). 

ALISHA GIAMPOLA is an NYC based actor/teacher/writer who will be in D.C. this Saturday wearing a hat her Syrian great-grandmother crocheted.
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WE NEED A LITTLE CHRISTMAS

Right. This. Very. Minute.
By Alisha Giampola (Writer/Performer)

It doesn't feel like Christmas yet in New York. There's only been a brief flurry of snow, nothing to stick, nothing to take a picture of. Even I, grumpiest of cold-weather persons, have not yet unpacked my heaviest winter coat. The overall feeling of sadness and dread that settled over the city after the election has not yet dissipated. Difficult times, corrupt leadership, war and strife, these things frequently nudge our greatest artists to produce their greatest art. Beauty is always best forged in the hottest fire. This week, I took myself to see a dear old friend in a play that I absolutely love, but have never had the opportunity to see. Jonathan Larson, of Rent fame, wrote only one other musical in his too-short life. The Keen Company's Tick, Tick...BOOM! is playing right now at The Acorn Theatre in Midtown, and if you have a chance before your flight home this holiday (it closes for good on December 18th), I highly recommend that you see it. Besides the fact that the three actors in it (including my amazingly talented friend George Salazar), are all phenomenal- this show resonates right now in a way that feels incredibly contemporary, despite being set in 1990. Disillusioned by friends having to sell out and work for soulless corporations, struggling with the pull between creating art and seeking stability, uninspired by Bush-era politics, wondering what the decade of one's thirties will bring, and set deep in the heart of the AIDS crisis, I had forgotten how relevant so much of the script is. The AIDS crisis aside, it's basically the life of me and like 90% of my friends.

This holiday season, it feels like we just voted in the Grinch, Mr. Potter, Ebenezer Scrooge...(just basically every bad guy from every Christmas movie ever but with none of the redeeming qualities rolled into one) into office. It felt good to take in art- challenging, beautiful, heartbreaking art. It was a reminder that there is always ugliness, and the job of artists is to shine flashlights into the corners and make the cockroaches scuttle. And there are a lot of dark corners right now. When bullies vie for other bullies to be put in charge, when refugees are being turned away and innocent people are ducking bombs, when an entire country has been conned, it's easy to feel like kindness and generosity are sorely lacking in this world this holiday season. But what George Bailey and Tiny Tim and Mrs. Claus and the Cratchits and Susan Walker and Buddy the Elf and all the Whos down in Whoville want you to remember is that kindness and love and art are the best and really only way to protest anything.

2016 has been a hard year for our world and this new year feels both promising and slightly ominous. So much rests on the small, everyday actions of all of us. The kind of person who assumes the mantle of the most powerful person the world stage, yet feels the need to write a tweet every time someone satirizes him, is the kind of person who requires attention, positive or negative, at any cost. That's the kind of person who will continue to surround themselves with yes-men and sycophants, regardless of their danger to others or to democracy in general. Journalists have their work cut out for them, as do all persons currently in or planning to run for office in this country and in other world democracies. What can artists do in 2017? What should our New Years Resolution be? We can refuse to bend our moral compass towards the closest, brassiest magnet. We can choose our ability to express ourselves to others as a platform for love instead of hate, for inclusivity instead of hostility. We can call the emperor out for wearing no clothes, in numbers too multitudinous to be retweeted. We can keep creating. Keep questioning. As the last song of Tick, Tick...BOOM! reminds us: "Fear or love baby? Don't say the answer: actions speak louder than words." 

I've been thinking a lot about the finale of the operetta Candide by Leonard Bernstein. In college, I sang the role of Paquette in a staging of that final song we performed in a small cabaret of several opera pieces. It is a beautiful song with beautiful lyrics and when I try to talk about what I hope artists do with the time we all have in 2017, when I think about the words I would most like to be my New Years Resolution, if such things can be resolved, these are the words that keep playing through my mind:

Let dreamers dream what worlds they please
Those Edens can't be found
The sweetest flow'rs, the fairest trees
Are grown in solid ground.
We're neither pure nor wise nor good,
We'll do the best we know
We'll build our house and chop our wood
And make our garden grow
And make our garden grow.

ALISHA GIAMPOLA is an NYC based actor/teacher/writer who would like to wish you all a Merry Christmas. Kiss my ass. Kiss his ass. Happy Hanukkah.
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EVERY ACTION HAS AN EQUAL OPPOSITE REACTION

aka. It's Hamilton lyrics from here on out, people.
By Alisha Giampola (writer/performer)

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and a lot of New Yorkers are making the pilgrimage (haha, see what I did there?) back to the small midwestern hometowns that they moved away from to be the artists, writers, and other assorted over-employed roles this city requires of them. The holidays can be tense for a lot of people, and this year, 2016, the most ridiculous year of all time, is probably going to be an especially tough one for some. Before we go a step farther, may I recommend something that you should absolutely read in preparation for spending time with people who may not agree with you? (All credit for finding that goes to my thoughtful husband, who has been calling the SHIT out of our elected representitives this week, regarding Trump's appointment of Steve Bannon- and you can too.)

There has been a lot said since the election. A lot of noise from both sides. A lot of reminders that it's so important to fact check one's news sources. A lot has also already been said about how all this infighting by the electorate is distracting people from what is actually happening in Washington right now- or rather, a lot of it's happening right here in NYC since the president-elect has that perfectly nice tower here that he'd like to stay in. I have feelings that change every day about how much this political upheaval is affecting my life and the lives of those I care about. Some days I feel like a navel-gazing millenial who is as entitled and stuck up as the right claims the liberal elite is, and a lot of the rest of the time I am so nervous that I'm going to become one of those people who stand by and watch as totalitarianism takes over. I am afraid that one day in the next four years, I'm going to look around and not be able to tell the pigs faces from the faces of the people. 

This past weekend, after the cast of Hamilton publicly spoke after their Friday evening performance that Mike Pence attended, Donald Trump wrote a series of tweets demanding that the cast apologize for addressing Pence, calling the Broadway production of Hamilton overrated, complaining that Pence was booed (by the audience, not the cast), and hilariously invoking the sentiment that theatre is a "safe space" and by respectfully addressing Pence the cast somehow broke that bond. He has since tweeted about his hate of SNL, and Alec Baldwin's impression of him, demanding "equal" time, for the "other side", whatever that means (he does know there isn't another "side" to make fun of now that he's won, right? Not to mention that some of the funniest skits this week on SNL skewered liberals). 

"Thank you so much for joining us tonight. You know, we had a guest in the audience this evening. And Vice President-elect Pence, I see you're walking out but I hope you will hear us just a few more moments. There's nothing to boo here ladies and gentlemen. There's nothing to boo here, we're all here sharing a story of love. 

We have a message for you, sir. We hope that you will hear us out. And I encourage everybody to pull out your phones and tweet and post because this message needs to be spread far and wide, OK?

Vice President-elect Pence, we welcome you and we truly thank you for joining us here at Hamilton: An American Musical, we really do. We, sir, we are the diverse America who are alarmed and anxious that your new administration will not protect us — our planet, our children, our parents — or defend us and uphold our inalienable rights, sir. But we truly hope that this show has inspired you to uphold our American values and to work on behalf of all of us. All of us.

Again, we truly thank you for sharing this show. This wonderful American story told by a diverse group of men [and] women of different colors, creeds, and orientations."

- statement read by Brandon Victor Dixon (who plays Aaron Burr) after curtain call on behalf of the cast and creative team.

Pence's attendance at the show, Trump's outrage at the cast exercising their free speech, and the subsequent attention paid by the artistic community and others alike have been called a distraction by many. And there's a lot to distract from. What has actually happened in the week and a half since the election? While we are being distracted by tweets? During the internet's infighting about what constitutes peaceful protesting? SO MUCH STUFF. The president-elect's recent Trump University fraud settlement and ongoing accusations of molestation, his daughter who runs his business sitting in on a meeting with the Japanese prime minister, hiring a white supremacist as his chief strategist, his hotel in DC being a conflict of interest as foreign dignitaries are beginning to use it to garner favor (and his statement that presidents don't have to worry about conflicts of interest), the hedge fund heiress who is one of his primary backers and a powerful voice in how he runs things, Melania and Barron's decision to stay in Trump Tower and his plans to return there as frequently as possible (costing the NY taxpayers millions), his meeting with the press in which he complained about unflattering pictures used of him. By the time this post publishes he will have probably tweeted about like 50 other things.

But I disagree with some that this is merely a distraction that liberals are "falling for" and coming off as pretentious artists who are sore losers. I think it's also an indication that Trump is exactly as thin skinned as he has always seemed, so LET'S GET UNDER THAT SKIN. Sometimes things can be more than one thing at a time. We can note that he intends to distract and obfuscate real issues, that he has no intention of attempting to appear more "presidential" on twitter, while still remembering all the very real and scary things that he continues to say, do, and not stand up against. Having people continue to infight is good for the business of Trump. It's good for those he's put in power. Artists must remember their power as well. Satire, skewering, bringing things from shade to light is what artists do best, and despite what Trump may think, it's literally what theatre was created for. Props to Mike Pence for one thing (and one thing only, mind you): when he heard the booing from the audience as he walked into that theatre, he says he told his daughter "this is what freedom sounds like". Damn right, Mike Pence. Damn right.

Now is the time to focus more on him and the government that has been elected and those he appoints to surround him. We must not get wrapped up in our own internet battles about what constitutes racism and if political correctness has gone too far. Those are valuable conversations, but only if they're actual conversations. Everyone in America, left and right, is tired of the corruption in government and leadership that only serves itself and the 1%. It's time to take him seriously- he wanted us to, and a lot of us didn't. On both sides. He's an incredibly easy man to not take seriously and it is the primary mistake almost all of his opposition (average voters and the DNC like) made during the election. Let's remember --as his opposition now has over 1.5 million more votes than him (as far as the popular vote goes)-- that this is the most unpopular president-elect of all time. No one has entered the office with a lower approval rating. Like a lot of unliked bullies, Trump is jealous of those who are well-liked. He is protective of those who show any loyalty to him, regardless of their beliefs or qualifications. This is important. We must be paying attention, we must be listening. It sucks that this election has finally ended and yet we can't get on with our day, month, year, without thinking about politics again for a nice long while. But that clearly hasn't worked well for us in the past, has it? I'm talking to us, my bubble of  liberal elites here in NYC. I'm talking to our families in the midwest and other assorted small towns, some of whom were vocal during the election and now have become eerily silent, or who had remained silent the whole time and are now frustrated that things aren't going "back to normal". I'm talking to the most vocal of Trump's supporters, who are thrilled and victorious and wondering how many days into his inaguration he will wait before completing that wall- a month? Two? (Spoiler alert: nope).

Despite America's long history of political satire and using comedy to make clear that our politicians are members of a democracy, rather than a dictatorship, Trump finds this element of his new leadership position distasteful. Very much like when Gob in Arrested Development temporarily becomes president of the Bluth Company, demands that his employees roast him and then fires them all when they actually take him up on it, Donald Trump would love nothing more than to only surround himself with yes-men. Let's make that hard for him. Let's inundate him with sketches, satire, political criticism, peaceful statements of protest, until he can't possibly respond to each one with a snippy short-sentenced tweet. ("Very sad." "Overrated." "WRONG.") We have a long history of placing our leaders under scrutiny through the arts. In recent years, Obama, George W, Reagan, and Bush were all recipients of memorable satire and creative critique that I remember well, and they accepted as part of their jobs. The time for quietly ignoring, passing blame, or hoping someone else will take care of things for us is over. As for us theatre kids, let's remember those freshman Theatre History classes and get excited to be the political activists that the Greek originators of the modern art form of performance intended. 

ALISHA GIAMPOLA is an NYC based actor/teacher/writer who would like to use this space to wish her Dad a very very happy Turkey Day Birthday!!!
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OCTOBER OBSESSION: SOLANGE

It's October y'all...  and I got a new obsession...

by David Davila

I grew up with Solange. Like you, to me Solange was just Beyonce's little sister. She was just an untalented little brat that got to ride the coattails of greatness. Wrong. I was wrong. You were wrong. We were all wrong.

Solange is an artist. 

I actually realized it back in 2012 with the release of her last album TRUE. So I was eagerly awaiting her follow-up A SEAT AT THE TABLE. Now that it's in my possession, it's on heavy rotation. I can't stop listening to it. It's wonderful. It's brilliant. It's smart. It's important. The entire album is an anthem to black pride. 

Check out the two videos she released and join me in my obsession:

THERE AND BACK AGAIN

Encountering the Amazon without taking off my headphones.
By Alisha Giampola (writer/performer)

Last week I had the opportunity to see the opening night of the first play to open the 2016/17 season on Broadway, Simon McBurney's one-man immersive audio-experience, The Encounter. 

The circumstances that led me to be sitting in the very first row (in front of Kevin Kline, no less!) of this production were related to my husbands' work, so I actually had not prepared myself in any way for the show I was about to see until the lights were dimming. Well, unless you consider preparing yourself to include spending an inordinate amount of time deciding what to wear because I really wanted to feel fabulous at the party afterwards. "What's this called again?" I whispered to Daniel as we were instructed to put our headphones on and check that they were working. 

Opening night curtain call of The Encounter.
You can actually see Daniel's head just under the "T" of the "Exit" sign there in the front row, clapping. 
I was there too, but I'm about a foot shorter and standing to his left, so. 

The best way I can describe the experience of seeing The Encounter is.... well, have you ever done any drugs? Haha, I kid. But seriously, have you? Simon McBurney, alone, on a stage full of microphone and audio equipment and a whole lot of water bottles creates an aural experience that can only be described as a live psychedelic podcast. Both wildly broad and incredibly intimate, he is able to recreate the sounds, colors, and damp heat of the Amazon rainforest using only his ability to speak directly into your ears through an anthropomorphic microphone that sits in the center of the stage for the entire production. Silent, almost talismanic, his solitary high-tech scene partner is the only other humanoid on stage with him. And yet, you feel surrounded by an entire tribe of people, an entire jungle of creatures, and occasionally if feels as if the stage has transformed into the interior of a mind grappling with it's own consciousness.

So, trippy. It's very trippy. As in the literal meaning of that word: "trip". I have never felt so transported by so little while surrounded by so many people. At one point, I disengaged from the production happening before me to check in with my real-life surroundings. There I was, sitting in a huge Broadway theatre full of people wearing headphones. None of us could hear anything other than what was being piped directly into our ears. Someone arriving late, into the back of the theatre, would hear nothing but a faint distant whispering coming from the stage, perhaps. See an entire crowd, enraptured, but silent, fixated on a man presumably audio-mixing something from the stage using little else but his voice, water bottles and occasionally rolls of undeveloped film for sound. 

Perhaps the best suggestion for how to encounter The Encounter is to do so as I did. Knowing absolutely nothing about what you're getting into. (And also, pee first. There is no intermission and it's a solid 2 hours long). (If you can't handle the suspense, feel free to give yourself a few spoilers via all the rave reviews it's getting.) I will say that, for myself, I enjoyed it a lot, and we all know how much I love a good podcast and McBurney tells a hell of a story. The perfection (or was it irony?) of learning through this highly sophisticated aural technology about a little-known indigenous culture while simultaneously being confronted with how technology is destroying indigenous cultures was not lost on me.

But is a really good podcast, watching someone essentially produce a radio performance piece in front of you, a legitimate immersive theatre experience? More importantly, is it a play? These are the kinds of technological conundrums surrounding art that begin dividing the olds from the youngs as they do every twenty or fifty or a hundred years or so. Are selfies legitimate portraiture? And if it is, is Kim Kardashian a legitimate artist? Bach and the Beatles are both composers of great music, and even though McBurney's play can only be experienced via headphones, who is to say that it's not just natural artistic evolution: the theatrical medium simply adapting to encompass the way we currently consume media? 

No matter what, The Encounter is a limited engagement, and unlike other forms of theatre, there will be no way to enjoy it except for seeing it live. No script book, cast recording, or YouTube clip could even begin to do this one justice. And maybe that is exactly what makes it theatre at its most theatrical. 

image via. 

ALISHA GIAMPOLA is an NYC based actor/teacher/writer whose favorite Kevin Kline movie is A Fish Called Wanda. Thanks for asking.
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NO CALLBACK? NO GIG? NO PROBLEM

Live your Golden Life.
by Kathleen Choe (actor/singer/writer)

Wake up. Check email. The project you were in final callbacks for has released you. That’s the second one this month. There’s still no word on that audition you felt really good about. You breathe, you sigh, you care and you don’t care. Well, you care. If you didn’t you’d be an android.

Ok. Fine. Let it go.

You see another email about your student loan payment being debited from your account and another email from the credit card company informing you payment is due. You see two other emails from jobs you applied for thanking you for your interest, but turning you down. You hop on Facebook. Someone booked this. Someone booked that. That part you were called back for was cast with a tall blonde…not you. Someone else is taking a fabulous vacation somewhere you’ve always wanted to go.

You catch yourself from falling down the rabbit hole of what’s it going to take so tired so frustrated so sick and tired of feast or famine this life is so damn hard is any of this worth it? 

You make breakfast. You look out the window. You’d rather go back to bed, but you put the dishes in the sink and then job hunt online. You see ones that you’re qualified for but make you want to pull out your hair. You apply to them anyway because that’s what part of being an adult is.

You make yourself put on your workout clothes and go to the gym and chuckle at the irony of keeping your gym membership in moments like this. You take the class you signed up for. The instructor tells you to challenge and push yourself and you do. You feel good, pat yourself on the back after class, then realize that you’ve lost all sensation in your arms.

Right. Hydrate. 

You shower and put on a dress, put on makeup, because why not, you’ve decided to treat yourself to a solo artist date at a museum where it's pay what you can.

Food for the soul today: The Met Breuer.

On the way there, a cute man checks you out in the street and you smile back. You don’t go after him though, but hey…you look good today.

The exhibit there is called Unfinished: Thoughts Left Visible. You see this:

Arrow of Time (Unfinished Life), by Tatsuo Miyajima

…and this:

The Hand of God, by Auguste Rodin

and are inspired by these unfinished works by Monet, Manet, Klimt, Rodin, and Twombly along with others. You discover an artist new to you, Berthe Morisot. Their unfinished art speaks to you because finished or not, they’re still beautiful.

You end your visit by walking through an exhibit of photographs by Diane Arbus. This photograph makes you smlle:

Five Members of the Monster Fan Club, NYC
by Diane Arbus

You take the bus uptown instead of a subway to visit a friend, because why not. It’s a slow day. Your stomach is growling but you don’t want to buy food because there’s food at home that will cost you nothing. It’ll be awhile until you get back home though, so you buy a $2 protein bar, because you can afford that, so why not.

You meet your friend and the two of you realize last time you saw each other in person was 6 months ago. You’ve both had big disappointments, but also great joy. You talk. You vent. You groan. You laugh. You help them with an audition that they’re working on and for a 10 glorious minutes you get to be an actor with someone who you love, and it’s utter happiness.

Remembering what's important.

You look at each other’s lives and realize that even though it might not feel like it, you’re both ok. You’re still in this game. You have no plans to quit acting anytime soon, because you love it that much.

You get on the train to go home. That class you took this morning at the gym is starting to hit you. You were planning on going to the gym again today in an effort to lose those four pounds you’ve put on, but your stiff arms and swimmy head laugh at you and say that’s a bad idea.

You scan the seats, waiting for one to open up. One does, but there’s an elderly man who needs it more. You gesture to him for him to sit, even though he makes the sign that he’s fine. Another seat opens and you sit down, but another man walks on with a cane and so you stand and give it to him. You’re tired but you’re healthy. He smiles in gratitude and your heart opens up a little more.

You’ll sit when you get home.

You get home. There’s food in the fridge. You make yourself a snack. There’s also the milk stout that your sister and brother-in-law brought over and so you take a little nip of that, because you look at the clock and it’s 5pm and why not.

You sit, and breathe, and think.

It’s hard. It’s so hard right now. You choose to live in hope and have faith that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, because there has to be.

You have food. You have shelter. You have health. You have a set of skills that people need and will pay for as your day job.

You have something you love to do down to the marrow of your bones. You have people who love you and believe in you.

So endeth this day. No callback, no gig, no problem. It hurts. It sucks. You sigh. You cry.

But no problem.

Live your Golden Life.

(And remember to hydrate).

KATHLEEN CHOE is a NYC based actor, singer, and writer. www.www.kathleen-choe.com
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WHO RUN THE WORLD?

Beyoncé, most likely. 
By Alisha Giampola (Writer/Performer)

I had the pleasure yesterday to participate in a documentary project conceived by an old pal from college/early days of restaurant work here in the city, Samantha Walsh. Her project, titled Womanish, "addresses what it means to be a strong woman". Sam clarifies that what most interests her in the idea of the "strong woman" is this: "why we even have to preface woman with that adjective in order to make that statement clear for the people around us, the society at large. But most importantly, for ourselves." 

Sam had reached out to me about this art project and mentioned that pondering those things had gotten her thinking about what made her feel most powerful, and in turn, what made other women feel most powerful. It's an interesting question, and one I was surprised to have some trouble answering. I feel all different kinds of powerful. I feel powerful when I'm done with a tough yoga class, or after mastering something difficult that I was scared to try. I also feel powerful when I've nailed a slightly complicated social interaction or when I'm wearing a particularly flattering shade of lipstick. I don't think that these kinds of disparate ideas about power are unique to women, but I definitely think women are frequently made to feel most guilty if they aren't able to simultaneously encompass all of them. I am reminded of the now much-worn quote from Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn, where she lays out in a fantastic rant a desire to render the "cool girl" obsolete: the Cool Girl of course being the girl who spends her energy creating a persona that is what she thinks men want her to be instead of who she actually, really is. 

During a summer when the world has watched Simone Biles become one of the most powerful Olympic athletes not just of the current games, but of all time, during a summer when women in general powerfully dominated their fields during the games, we can't forget that these most obviously "powerful" of women are still presented in comparative terminology and reduced to commentary on their marital or parental status, or if they were wearing enough make up. Women have finally been given a place a the table, but have not yet been allowed to forget who is still sitting firmly at the head of it. 

So yesterday, Sam was photographing and interviewing me for the Womanish project and as we were walking in my neighborhood, carrying camera equipment and chatting as we headed back towards my apartment, a smiling middle-aged man stopped us in our tracks. "Well look at these two beautiful girls!" He shouted at us. Sam and I exchanged a slightly weary glance at each other and moved on. Then, just a few minutes later, Sam was taking one or two last photos near my building and was in the middle of readjusting her camera as a man walking by hopped right into her shot, posed with me, and said "We're ready! Go ahead and take it!" He walked away as quickly as he had arrived and Sam and I were left in a combination of exasperated and bewildered amusement. "You should write about how middle-aged white guys think they're so funny." Sam joked. And she's right. I bet, with a quick show of hands, we can easily have an entire internet full of ladies who will vouch that Middle Aged White Guys Just Think They're So Funny. 

What was so preposterously apt about those interactions was that they occurred one right after the other during a brief time that Sam was literally in the middle of attempting to work on a piece of art that explores the frustrations (and joys, and struggles, and meaning) of being a woman in the world today. And being a woman in the world today is very much about cheerfully and frequently brushing off the blatantly unnecessary interruptions and condescensions of all manner of Middle Aged White Guys Who Think They're So Funny.  

I'm so interested to see this piece unfold, because Sam's pursuit to document all sorts of different women, of different ages, from different backgrounds and fields, should provide an interesting window into what women think about themselves and how being a woman shapes that self-examination. You should check it out too (and not just because I'm going to be a part of it, although that's clearly a great reason and you obviously have excellent priorities, carry on).

Most importantly: if you are womanish yourself and would like to participate, you should contact Sam at [email protected]. 

The Womanish project is on Facebook, Instagram, and Tumblr. 

  (Above outtake photo of me definitely not being a yoga model via: Samantha Fairfield Walsh.) 

ALISHA GIAMPOLA is an NYC based actor/teacher/writer who has actually given it some more thought and probably has never felt more powerful than when she was 16 years old and was driving her 1998 Pontiac Sunfire with the windows down and Alanis Morissette cranked up. 
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ARTS 'N' CRAPFTS

Beautiful is overrated.
by Alex Syiek (Writer/Performer/Arteest)

I have always loved arts and crafts. From pre-school to grad school, any time I have the opportunity to glue, cut, paint, and staple, I leap face first into the wonderful vat of paste before me. Now, while I love arts and crafts, I never said I was super great at them or anything. In fact, I subscribe to a very simple acronym I am just now making up - TWILTR: The Worse It Looks, The Radder.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays, simply because it gives me a chance to fully realize this acronym with the creation of my costumes. The few weeks before Halloween, my apartment always looks like a serial killer's hideout, with scraps of latex, masks, fake knives, and the like strewn about the place. Let me give you a lil' tour of one of my favorite costumes.

Costume - Bloody Face from American Horror Story: Asylum

I love American Horror Story (except for one season - I'm glaring at you, Coven). So, naturally, one of my Halloween costumes was bound to be based on terrifying creep Bloody Face. I'm avoiding spoilers, just in case someone hasn't watched that season yet, but the actor behind Bloody Face got under my skin with his portrayal (pun intended). Thankfully, when making a costume based off of a super scary serial killer, one can feel free to make their product as janky as possible. I mean, do you think Bloody Face took care for symmetry with his creation?

So, I took inspiration from Mr. Face, and went about sculpting my own version of his iconic mask, putting my personal stamp on it, while still aiming for 'terrifying.'